Racing the Yellow Lights
by E.E.Cummingz
Summary: Kurt is a cold, calculating assassin, Blaine is his intelligent, dangerous target. Complications arise when Kurt begins a relationship with Blaine in order to get enough evidence to finish the job.
1. Chapter 1

Racing the Yellow Lights

Kurt adjusted his sweater as the cold metal elevator descended silently down thirty levels of high intelligence offices. The doors opened with a futuristic sigh, revealing a tunnel that led to level 35 of the Lima Intelligence Agency. _What better place to put a secret government association_, Kurt had thought when he was first recruited. No one would ever look in Lima, especially not under what looked like and operated as a simple gas station. The building was like a skyscraper flipped upside-down and then shoved into the ground. Almost fifty levels of secret operations, the further down you went, the more secretive they were. Kurt stood still as a conveyor belt swept him through a shower of sweeping green lights, obtaining his identity and portraying a simulation of his body on a computer screen. Kurt remembered his first trip through it, back before his life had turned into some crazy life, fitting for a teen novel series. Gay kid at a straight school gets a job with the government, held responsible for killing some of the most important con men and evil-doers of society today. He felt like Hannah Montana, but instead of singing songs, he was killing evil men in the dead of night.

Kurt was at a mixed martial arts practice one night, practicing his sai sword twirling skills for his next performance when a woman in a black trench coat and sunglasses approached him. _That trench coat is awful. And why was she wearing sunglasses inside? What was this, Men in Black 4? _

"Kurt Hummel," she questioned, mouth returning to a tight-lipped line like a rubber band snapping back into place.

"Yes?" _How does she know my name? Should I be scared? No, wait, I have swords. She does look a little strong, though. I'm not seriously thinking about sai swording this lady am I?_

"My name is Agent Bellevue, I was wondering if I could have a second of your time."

So Kurt had gone along with her, descended the thirty-five floors for the first time, and flinched as he was taken through the sensors. The whole thing was incredibly cliché, he couldn't help but think. Looks like the movies actually got most of it right.

"Welcome, Agent Hummel." A now familiar robotic voice supplied, breaking through his reverie, before another set of heavy metal doors swept open and he was welcomed to the sight of fifty or so people buzzing around, phone's ringing, the sound of keys on laptops clicking so loud it sounded like a heavy rain on a roof. Kurt breathed in the familiar smell of the clean but frenzied office, then made his way to the back, not saying a word to anyone. The actual field men – those who went out and did the deeds, like Kurt - and the desk jockeys - those who crunched numbers and sat on their asses all day- didn't often get along with each other. Each one thought they were more important than the other.

He knocked on a door in the back with a plaque that read AGENT BELLEVUE in cold, condescending letters.

"Come in, Hummel," and when he obliged and made his way into the room and found Bellevue and two gray men staring back, solemn-faced, she added "You're late, once again."

"Ah, yes, well I have this weird thing called school," he retorted nonchalantly, picking at his nails. "Some kids my age have to go to it like five days a week. It's a new thing, I think, you've probably never heard of it."

"Very funny," she returned. "Hummel, this is Agent Frost and Bogart, they have a mission for you."

"Splendid," Kurt smiled, shaking each of their hands. "What can I do for you this time, boys? Drug dealer in Malaysia, terrorist in Milan?"

The two men looked at each other and laughed. Bogart talked. "Actually, son, this is closer to home. It's a young man by the name of Blaine Anderson, he attends Dalton Academy, you heard of it?"

"First of all, do not call me _son_, I have killed more important men than you have ever even heard of. And secondly, you want me to kill a _high schooler? _Why don't you just get Hubert to do that, I'm out of this kid's league. Bellevue, this is an insult, I've got homework to do. Call me when you have a real mission." Kurt turned to leave.

"This isn't any regular high schooler," Frost spoke, Kurt paused in the door way. The agent pulled up a picture and profile. Kurt turned to read it over. The kid wasn't bad looking, bright eyes and slicked down hair, bowtie almost taking over the tiny mug shot they had of him. Interesting, Kurt thought. "This kid is top priority. He's crazy smart, we think he's been hacking into our most secure servers, but he never leaves a trace of evidence. This kid is good. We need you to find evidence, and then eliminate him."

Kurt stared at the picture, an innocence resonated from this kid. He was all big puppy eyes and bow ties. "Crazy smart, huh?" Frost nodded. "I bet I'm smarter," Kurt responded. He loved a challenge. And this dapper son of a bitch was about to go down.


	2. Chapter 2

Dalton Academy smelled like Christmas trees and Abercrombie and Fitch. All the boys were neatly coiffed, hair perfect, blazers fitted. Kurt was pretty sure he was in heaven. He played with his jacket self-consciously, it was obviously different than everyone else's.

"You at least could have found me a real jacket," he whispered to the air, avoiding the questioning glances of the boys around him.

"_We did the best we could," _Bellevue's voice droned from his microscopic ear piece. Kurt sneered, looking around at the bustling young energy filling this heavenly place, and made his way down the stairs.

"_Blaine Anderson, loves coffee and football, one older brother, daddy issues," _Bellevue listed. "_And he's coming up on your left. You know what to do. Work your magic, Hummel."_

"Oh, excuse me?" Kurt spoke up, finding the target passing by him. The boy turned and looked up, with huge, honey-colored eyes. Kurt convinced himself that the flip of his stomach was the thrill of the beginning of the chase. "Hi, I'm new here."

"My name's Blaine," the boy reached out his hand. _Friendly, _Kurt thought.

"Kurt," he responded, shaking the hand and smiling as Blaine cracked a wide grin. _And cute. _

And apparently the star singer in the school's Glee Club, and also _gay_. Kurt tried to hide his smile when Blaine admitted it to him over coffee with some of the other Warblers. _Bellevue, you really couldn't have told me that before? _He reminded himself to scold her when he went back to the agency that night. It was almost too easy: make the boy fall in love with him, divulge his deepest darkest secrets, find a creative way to end his life. Get out as quickly as he could and roll in the giant pile of money waiting for him at the end of the road.

It turns out, pretending to date someone is even harder than actually dating them. Kurt had to pretend he was falling in love without actually falling in love. It was the most difficult mission he had ever been given, and he had been given some demanding missions. If Kurt was being honest with himself, Blaine was very close to perfect. Of course he had to go and hack the federal government and get offed. Just Kurt's luck.

It took a while to get Blaine's attention in a romantic sense, but after some well-planned "accidental" run-ins and some strategic wardrobe choices, it finally happened. It was incredibly hard work making this progression seem natural while also being bound by the time-limit of a strict mission. Kurt almost had to laugh at his life; the kids at his school thought _Algebra _was difficult. They wouldn't last a day in his shoes, but they still shoved him as he walked down the hall way and called him names. He got by just knowing he was serving a larger purpose and scoffed at their melodramatic weekly break-ups. Kurt Hummel had bigger fish to fry.

Truth be told when Blaine kissed Kurt for the very first time, in that warm common room, Kurt maybe got a little lost in it. It took his breath away, it was so gentle and caring. The sincere look in Blaine's eyes when he confessed his feelings for the first time, it would have been the most romantic moment of Kurt's life if it had been real.

Kissing was simple, lying about feelings was easy, but spending every day with this boy, learning his ins and outs and rights and wrongs and hopes and dreams was slowly melting Kurt's icy heart. There were days when he'd lie on Blaine's bed, talking about Brangelina's adopted children, and he'd almost forget about his mission. _Almost. _Because Kurt was nothing if not determined and professional. Unfortunately, his profession required emotion at the moment, and that's where lines were getting crossed. It was a challenge to say the least.

Even when he forgot reality, Bellevue was always in his ear, tutting away at their cutesy conversations, saying things like _"The mission, Hummel" _or sometimes resorting to sarcasm, croaking "_Isn't that cute_." So whenever he'd realize that he was forgetting about his mission, or he heard Bellevue's robotic voice deep in his ear, he would mentally slap himself in the face and get back to business.

One day, they were sitting on Blaine's bed. Kurt knew it would get to this point, but he was hoping he would have found something by three weeks in. The trouble was, in order to find evidence, he had to be in Blaine's room. And having been dating for three weeks, things were starting to progress. Blaine was obviously nervous, Kurt surveyed Blaine's twitchy hands as he used his keen eyes to search around the room. It was not the first time they had been in a room alone together, but having just spent their three-week anniversary at Bread Stix, there were implications.

Kurt sat on Blaine's bed and watched him pace around, tidying things and avoiding Kurt's eye contact. _He's nervous, how cute. _

Kurt admired the gentle slope of Blaine's back into his rather profound ass as he examined his bookshelf. The kid had a Goddamn library in his room, stuffed with classics. Kurt had to admit, Blaine was very attractive. Objectively speaking, that is. His wide, earnest eyes. His strong, compact body, freckled with dark, wiry hair over his olive skin. He was a little small, but Kurt found it endearing, and when he first felt the strength of Blaine's hand around his wrist, he knew that small body was capable of incredible things. He could imagine Blaine using his thick, muscular legs to hold him against a wall and pound into him, make him scream. They hadn't gone past first base yet, but Kurt just knew Blaine was packing some major heat below the belt. He had seen the boners Blaine abashedly tried to hide, and attempted to contain his excitement with the dirty thoughts they brought to mind. He tried to stay focused on business, but he was very physically attracted to Blaine. And that was it.

Sure, he enjoyed spending time with him. They got coffee almost every day after school, and actually ended up having a lot in common; musical taste, aspirations of fame, the love of performing. But a friendship built off of a lie is a lie itself. Though Kurt was not pretending to laugh at Blaine's stupid jokes or find yet another thing in common with him, their relationship was fake. Kurt kept telling himself that every night when he was on the edge of dreams and his mind drifted to Blaine.

"So…." Kurt drew out the o, patting the bed next to him when Blaine finally looked over. He didn't want to do this, but he didn't have _any_ evidence yet. Three weeks, plus the time it took to court him, and he had nothing. Blaine was good at keeping secrets, and even better at pretending he was a normal, dapper, charming teenager. He needed to get closer to Blaine, he needed Blaine to tell him more, slip up or maybe even confess, and he needed that to happen soon, before things got too serious.

Blaine stalked over to Kurt, sat next to him on the bed and put a soft hand on Kurt's cheek, pulling him in to lay a soft kiss on Kurt's lips. Kurt sighed into the kiss, then froze. Did he just do that on his own accord, or did he do it because he knew he should? He needed to get out of his head, stop thinking about it and do what a regular boyfriend would do.

So he took Blaine's face in his hands and pushed him back onto the bed, adjusting himself on top. He deepened the kiss, Blaine let out a groan.

"_Have fun, boys," _Bellevue's voice came from Kurt's ear, completely ruining the mood before Kurt heard the signature click of the ear piece turning off.

Kurt shook his head and tried to get back into it, which wasn't too hard to do because Blaine was using his strong arms to push his hands up the back of Kurt's shirt and pull Kurt's body closer to his. Kurt let out an involuntary moan, not even able to think anymore because Blaine's rough hands were scratching down his back and Blaine's narrow hips were pushing up into Kurt's, providing a delicious friction. Kurt pushed back, and for a few golden minutes, all they could hear was each other's ragged breath, the sound of their pants' fabric rubbing together. Kurt was losing it, he never thought it would be this good to feel Blaine's hot breath on his neck, hear Blaine's desperate words whispered into his ear, feel Blaine's strong hands moving wildly all over his body.

"So good," Blaine whispered. " 'm close, Kurt. _Kurt._"

Kurt was close too, embarrassingly so. He jutted his hips faster, pushed down a little harder, and groaned loudly when stars exploded behind his eyes, coming in his pants like a fucking inexperienced middle schooler. But the shame faded when he opened his eyes to see Blaine's squeezed shut, jaw clenched, a strangled noise escaping his bruised lips as he came too. Blaine pulled Kurt in for a sloppy, deep kiss, still breathing heavily, coming down from the high.

"That was amazing," Blaine croaked.

"Yeah," Kurt managed breathily, stroking Blaine's curls off of his forehead. "It was."

Kurt watched from the bed as Blaine stood to go clean up in the bathroom, admiring Blaine's flushed skin and tousled hair, puffy pink lips. Oh, the things Kurt did for his country.

"Hey Blaine, can I borrow your computer?" he asked innocently while Blaine was still in the bathroom. After receiving permission through the closed door, he scanned through it. It was a personal computer, he didn't do any of his work on it. The desktop was a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together, skin flushed from the cold, wide, goofy smiles plastered to their faces. _Back to business_, Kurt's brain snapped after Kurt had spent almost a full minute staring at the picture. _Right._ All the files were named typical things, there were a couple pictures of his family on there. There was a great picture of him and his older brother fishing together, Kurt scrolled through before realizing he had a stupid grin on his face and shook his head. What a shame that such a handsome young man would lose his only little brother, Kurt thought, a twinge of guilt picking at him. Kurt pushed it away. Kurt did not _feel _things. Especially not guilt. He was an assassin, it was kind of his thing.

Kurt rifled through more of Blaine's files, but to no avail. Obviously he wouldn't keep his work on a computer just sitting around for anyone to find. He was too good for that.

"Are you good with computers? " Kurt asked, forcing an air of nonchalance.

"I don't really do much with them," Blaine replied, Kurt heard the sound of water running. "Sometimes I'll write a paper or check Facebook, but that's about the extent of my experience." Kurt nodded, standing up to search the bookshelf. "Why?" Blaine peeked his head out of the bathroom.

"Oh, I'm having computer problems, I was just wondering."

Blaine came out and walked over to Kurt at the bookshelf, putting his arms around Kurt's waist from behind, so that his front was pressed flush to Kurt's back, and kissing the crook of Kurt's neck. "Go get cleaned up and let me drive you home, baby," he offered, planting a kiss – probably the thousandth kiss that day – on Kurt's lips.

For the first time, Kurt was a little scared. Blaine was this highly intelligent, incredibly dangerous man, but he was good at hiding it. So good, in fact, that he had he world wrapped around his pinky with his charisma and charm, all of his closest friends and family believing that he was just some normal kid. Kurt was acting, but Blaine was too. Did Blaine feel anything at all? Kurt convinced himself that the twinge in his stomach was the fear of being outsmarted, and put on a smile, taking Blaine's hand and following him out the door.

Blaine returned home after dropping Kurt off, flicked the light on in his room and locked his door. He went over to his book shelf, stared at it a second, turned around and checked that the door was locked before finding _Sherlock Holmes _and pulling the large book off of the shelf. There was a quiet click, a gentle whoosh as the book shelf shifted, revealing a small room filled wall to wall with computer screens and equipment. There was a whir of electricity as Blaine flicked a switch and the computers turned on. A single chair sat in front of one big screen. Blaine sat down in the chair and reached for the keyboard, typing in his password before opening up a search engine he had programmed a while back. One of his better programs, he had to admit. It hacked into the federal government's database of everyone ever born in the United States, provided their name and location. Most people also had a profile of occupation, family, criminal records and other important information gathered over time.

**Kurt Hummel, **he typed into the search bar. Hundreds of names scrolled down the screen, he quickly isolated the one from Lima, Ohio.

Blaine read the profile, smiling at the picture they had of Kurt before he noticed something. His smile faltered, hands began to shake as he stared at the screen, unbelieving. His pulse quickened as his eyes combed the information on the screen over and over, searching for a mistake, but there wasn't one. Blaine dropped his head into his hands, exhaling loudly and massaging his forehead. Maybe he was overthinking this.

"Kurt Hummel, what the hell am I going to do with you?" he murmured to himself before shutting the equipment off, locking back the bookshelf, and turning in for the night, stomach twisting the whole night through.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine awoke the next morning, sick feeling still in his stomach. He went to the sink and splashed some water on his face. _You're not sure about anything. Okay, so Kurt works at the gas station above what you know is the biggest secret government headquarters for thousands of miles. Maybe he doesn't know. _Blaine let out a cold laugh, yeah _right_.

_It doesn't mean he works for the government; it doesn't mean he's an agent or a spy or anything. He's a teenager for God's sake. _

Blaine checked his reflection in the mirror. _But so are you, _it told him.

What he needed was a test. He would tell Kurt somehow, maybe just a little bit of information, and see how Kurt reacted. The worst case was that Kurt would know a little bit, not enough to use it against him. Not enough to turn him in. Blaine would just have to move schools again, this time probably change his name, no skin off of his back. But he _really _liked Kurt. Sure, Blaine was lying to him. But Blaine lied to everyone. It's just what he did. He could see himself falling for Kurt hard. And that was scary.

_Please, you break federal law almost every day, you've done shit that could put you in jail for the rest of your life. You can't be afraid of a doe-faced boy like Kurt. Harmless, sweet Kurt. Talented, beautiful, sexy Kurt that Blaine wanted to do terrible, terrible things with. _

He _definitely_ was afraid of Kurt.

…

Several weeks later, Kurt dropped his school bag heavily on the chair next to him as he sat down in Agent Bellevue's dingy office.

"Hummel," she started in a maternal tone. However cold and calculating she was, she was the closest thing Kurt had to a mom. They had a weirdly distant familial relationship, and it worked for both of them. Bellevue didn't have any children, no husband, so she let out those excess motherly feelings on him, and Kurt was happy to indulge, acting the part of the moody teenager. He didn't like to act that way in front of his dad; Burt Hummel had enough to worry about.

"I know, I know," he cut her off. He put on a robotic voice and stiffened his body. "_You need to get the evidence, Hummel. Evidence, evidence, evidence._" Kurt moved his arms like a robot along with the words, then pretended to short circuit, resting his chin on his chest and closing his eyes.

"Are you quite done?" Bellevue retorted, unsmiling.

Kurt sat back up, letting out a deep sigh. "Fine, yes. But is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes, Hummel. It's been two months. You have brought us almost nothing-"

"I have to get comfortable with him! He's not going to tell me anything after just a couple weeks of knowing me! I have to gain his trust. I know what I'm doing, Bellevue."

"You better. You seem…distracted. Get your head in the game."

"Yeah, thanks Zac Efron," Kurt mumbled, grabbing his bag and walking out the door.

Kurt _was _distracted. As their relationship progressed, Kurt was falling helplessly in love, no matter how hard he fought. No matter how many times he told himself it was just a job, it never stopped the butterflies in his stomach when Blaine showed up at his door with a carton of ice cream and two spoons. It never stopped the way his heart skipped a beat when Blaine snuck a quick kiss when he ran up to open the car door before a date. It never stopped the way his pulse raced when they moved together in the dark of Blaine's room, sweat and breath mixing together under the covers. Kurt was falling alright, fast and out of control.

His phone buzzed.

**From: B 3**

** come over tonight?**

Kurt smiled. How convenient.

**To: B 3**

** absolutely, be there at 8**

A second later

**From: B 3**

** good**

**To: B 3**

** good**

Kurt realized he had a stupid grin on his face all the way home. _Stupid, stupid Blaine. _Bellevue's voice echoed in his head, as it had every day for the past two months. Evidence. If Kurt could choose one word to never hear again, 'evidence' would be it.

…

Blaine cleaned his room, just so it looked like he didn't clean it for Kurt, but that he was naturally sort of neat. He placed a file folder so it looked half-hazardly splayed on his desk, adjusted his bowtie in the mirror and wiped his palms on his jeans before hearing the door bell and bounding down the stairs.

"Hi," he said breathlessly when he opened the door, giving Kurt a quick kiss before grabbing his hand and pulling him up the stairs. He was nervous. This was the moment of truth, and he just wanted to get it over with.

Blaine walked purposely past the desk, not glancing at it. "I have to go to the bathroom," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."

Kurt nodded and watched Blaine as he disappeared into the bathroom. Perfect. He quickly surveyed the room for the millionth time, about to give up hope that he would ever find anything in there, but this time his eyes immediately fell on a folder on the desk. He glanced towards the bathroom door before sliding nonchalantly to the desk, using one finger to open the folder. His heart started to beat faster. Inside the folder were lines and lines of coding. He rifled through the pages, nothing but code. This was it. He heard the bathroom door open and felt Blaine's eyes boring into his back. He heard Blaine freeze, and he stood still too, feet planted to the floor.

"Kurt," Blaine's voice was weak, he didn't know if he said it as a plea or as a question. He couldn't see Kurt's face, but he knew that Kurt had taken the bait. And the way Kurt was frozen, staring intently at the pages, Blaine knew that Kurt knew. He could see Kurt's hand shake where he held one of the pages, see Kurt's body tense. Blaine held his breath, not knowing what to expect.

_You have the evidence, you idiot. You just need him to say the words out loud. Turn around and ask him what this is. Do it. Do it now. _Why wasn't Kurt phoning in to Bellevue? Why wasn't he grabbing the gun in his bag? Why wasn't he moving at all?

Because evidence meant evidence. Evidence meant death. Kurt had thought about it thousands of times, the scenario frequenting his nightmares. He thought when the time came he would be able to do it. He would shoot Blaine straight in the heart, like he had done dozens of times. He would complete his mission. He would feel nothing, just as empty-hearted as he had felt when he killed all those other people. Just as empty-hearted as he had felt every day for years.

Blaine had to act fast. Kurt knew, but he wasn't saying anything. Maybe he was hesitant. Maybe there was still time to convince him to let Blaine go. Maybe Blaine was making it all up in his head, Kurt wasn't a spy and everything was normal. Blaine didn't know if Kurt's feelings had been real anymore, but it couldn't hurt to try. So he walked up behind Kurt, wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist.

He nuzzled his nose against the shell of Kurt's ear. "Kurt," he whispered hotly. He pressed a kiss to the skin behind his ear. Then another and another, licking and sucking down the column of Kurt's neck.

Kurt could never think when Blaine was kissing him, and especially now, his brain just shut off. Kurt couldn't make a decision, so he decided to not decide. He turned around, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck like he always did. They fit together so well like this.

Blaine caught Kurt's bottom lip between his and nibbled gently, moving his hand to grasp the back of Kurt's head, sprawling his fingers through Kurt's soft hair. He pulled Kurt, stepping backwards toward the bed while still kissing him. Blaine spun around so Kurt's back was facing the bed, carefully took Kurt's shirt off, then his own, before continuing the kiss, deepening it and laying Kurt gently onto the bed.

Blaine had a strange look in his eyes, different than usual. It was a kind of desperation that Kurt didn't understand. There was no way Blaine knew about him, he would've packed his bags and run for it by now. And he _definitely _wouldn't have left code just lying around. So why were Blaine's big eyes so full of…fear? He didn't have much time to think about it because Blaine was taking off Kurt's pants, and then his own. And then he was stretching his strong body on top of Kurt's, warm skin clashing with warm skin. And then he was rocking his hips down and groaning into Kurt's neck. He kissed there, moving downwards, soft lips tracking down Kurt's pale chest, pausing to clasp those lips delicately around each nipple. Kurt's back arched, brain short-circuiting. _Why was he allowing himself to be seduced? How did he end up here, like this? At this point he should have been pointing a gun at Blaine's head, seeing the heart-broken look in Blaine's pretty eyes. _

But Blaine continued down, unaware of the war waging in Kurt's head, warm breath tickling the soft hairs on Kurt's stomach. Then he looked up at Kurt, eyes a mixture of that same fear from before and a dark lust, a question. _Can I? _Kurt nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to. Blaine mouthed at Kurt's erection outside of his briefs, hands crawling up Kurt's thighs to reach for the elastic band and pulling them down, taking Kurt's cock in his hand.

If Kurt knew about Blaine, he sure wasn't acting like it anymore. Although, it may have had something to do with Blaine trailing his tongue up the soft underside of Kurt's cock, then circling it around the head, reveling in Kurt' familiar salty taste.

Kurt's eyes rolled back into his head. There were no more coherent thoughts. He could only smell Blaine on his sheets, and feel Blaine's rough hands grasp each of his hips and his tongue dance in intricate patterns across his skin before taking Kurt into his mouth, lips contracting tightly around the base.

"_Blaine," _Kurt breathed, because that was the only word that made sense. There was no 'evidence', there was no 'death', no 'assassin' or 'hacker.' All the other words in his expansive vocabulary had flown out the window when Blaine's throat constricted and Kurt felt nothing but incredible wet, hot tightness. Blaine moaned in response, and all Kurt could do was cling helplessly to Blaine's curls, his whole body shaking with pleasure. Blaine starting moving faster, slippery mouth making an obscene noise that must have been gross, but Kurt couldn't think it anything but sexy. Blaine's flushed face, messy hair, pink lips sliding up and down over and over, faster and faster, it was all just incredibly _hot. _Kurt felt a stirring low in his stomach, felt his body stiffen, his mind go blank and his hips buck upward on their own accord as he came hard down Blaine's throat with a stifled cry and no warning at all.

Blaine kissed his way back up and kissed Kurt lazily, both of them worn out from the effort. He breathed Kurt's name over and over, rocking his body slowly against Kurt's while they regained energy. Once Kurt came out of the fog, he trailed his hands along Blaine's body, gliding over his strong back, massaging his muscular ass, removing his briefs. He gave Blaine a few rough pulls before sinking down onto his cock. Blaine's trembling fingers found Kurt's hair, pulling lightly just how Kurt liked it. Kurt grasped a firm hand and moved it along with his mouth, twisting it with a devilish glint in his eye as Blaine whimpered. Kurt reached his other hand to ghost his finger lightly over Blaine's entrance, and Blaine thrusted his hips up.

"_Fuck," _Blaine moaned, continuing to push his hips up as Kurt took him in. Kurt snaked his tongue along the underside, blinking away tears as he took Blaine down as deep as he could, nose pressing against Blaine's coarse hair.

Blaine's thrusts grew wild, erratic, his breathing faster. Sweat was gathering at his temples and he squeezed his eyes shut because Kurt's mouth felt _so good _and Kurt was _so beautiful _and he was _so close. _He couldn't stop whimpering pathetically with every thrust. Then Kurt looked up at him, they locked eyes, and that was all it took, his head fell back as he arched, coming with a loud cry.

Kurt glided his way back up Blaine's body, resting his head in the crook of Blaine's neck as they breathed heavily into the dark of Blaine's room. And for a couple minutes all they did was lay silently like that, until Blaine broke the silence.

"I want to go all the way with you," he breathed, like it was nothing. Like he was saying 'I want to eat a sandwich', or 'I want to buy those shoes.'

Kurt froze. _All the way. Blaine wanted to have sex. _Kurt never thought about it going this far. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't say no, he couldn't say yes. He panicked, springing out of bed and collecting his clothes, throwing them on one by one, tripping on his pant legs.

"Or not?" Blaine laughed, sitting up and shooting Kurt a confused look.

"I...I have to go, I forgot, I had this thing…" Kurt mumbled, putting on his shirt backwards and grabbing his bag.

"Kurt, wait!" Blaine called from the bed, but Kurt was racing out the door.

"Talk to you later!" Kurt shot over his shoulder before practically running down the stairs and out the front door, fumbling for his keys with shaking hands and directing his car to the agency.

…

Bellevue was there. She was always there. Kurt could see the light through the shades of her windowed office. Pulling another late night.

He busted into her office, no knock or pleasantries. "I need off of the case. I have been emotionally compromised." Bellevue actually looked shocked for a second before returning back to her normal placid demeanor.

"Well that's for damn sure," she retorted. "Unfortunately, you can't just get _off this case,_" she mimicked in his silvery tone, tossing up air quotes. "It is a matter of federal importance, top secrecy, and you can't walk while Blaine is still alive. Either he dies, or you both die."

"He's just a kid," Kurt's voice broke. For a second he couldn't believe that Bellevue would actually have him killed. Just a second, before he realized that he worked in an office full of assassins. Killing people was like doing laundry to these guys.

"So are you, Hummel. He has you fooled, just like everyone else. This is how he survives, he manipulates everyone around him."

Kurt felt tears burning his eyes. He was about to have a real teenage melt down, but he breathed and thought about it. This was his job. He had been given an order he had to kill Blaine, or they would both die. He nodded curtly and left.

"Jennifer," Bellevue called out to her assistant once Kurt was gone. "Get me Agent Smythe on the phone, please."

"Yes ma'am," Jennifer supplied, switching in the call once Sebastian Smythe was on the line.

"Smythe, I have a job for you. A two-for-one deal," she spoke, and could almost hear the cold grin on the face of the boy on the other side of the line.


End file.
